Snow Storm
by Little Angel 19
Summary: Tragedy strikes a certain WWE superstar, and he is left to pick up the pieces of his life. That might be easier said than done, though.
1. The Storm Begins

All usual disclaimers apply. Short chapters, but more are coming! ^_^;; Please let me know what you think.  
  
**  
  
The silence of the night was piercing. Nothing had ever been so silent. If even a single needle was dropped, the whole room would surely carry its echo because of the emptiness that it surrounded it. A sudden breeze was heard outside the window and the shadows of a branch being moved by the wind displayed itself on the wall. The silver glow of the moon rays couldn't reach the room, however, and it wasn't strong enough to bring any light in it. Even without light, though, he knew what was in each part of the room. There was a single twin bed by the corner and a simple and old wooden nightstand next to it. On the nightstand, there was a small lamp and, on the other corner of the room, there was a wooden rocking chair; its shadow appearing as if there was a person sitting there, watching him.  
  
And that feeling was what made him sit up in bed. He had been in that room for days. So many days that it now felt like he had always been there. His clothes were simple and, even if they had been once comfortable, now they were old. No shoes or socks were on his feet and, even if it was cold, he didn't care. It also seemed like it had been a really long time since he had cared about anything at all, and his appearance showed it. Even if his hair was cut, he had last shaved about two days ago because he had been forced to. His eyes were lifeless, drained from energy. There wasn't a trace that those same eyes would burn holes through his foes as he glared at them merely some months ago.  
  
He was tired. Tired of waiting.  
  
Tired of being in this place.  
  
How long had it been since he had been outside? How long had it been since he had felt the same breeze that was making the branch move? Felt like years. He shouldn't be here. He didn't do anything. Looking around, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he came to the same conclusion: he didn't belong here. This place was too depressing for him. Standing, he slowly walked through the darkness and towards the cabinet that was under the window; his bare feet ignoring the fact that the cold floor felt like ice. Opening a drawer, he took out a small and forgotten box that he always kept there. The only thing that he was allowed to keep in this hellhole.  
  
With a heavy and tired sigh, he walked very slowly back to the bed and sat down, scooting all the way to the corner of the bed where two walls met. Leaning against the cold wall, he leaned his head back against the wall, tired.  
  
He was tired of waiting.  
  
It took a while for him to gather the courage he needed to open that box. Slowly, he untied the strings that held the box closed and, once they were off, he opened it. His eyes were well adjusted to the darkness, considering that he spent most of his stay in this very room in darkness. He didn't need light to see what was in that box. That box held the reminders of his past life. Of his past accomplishments. What he had once been. What he had once dreamed of keeping.  
  
What he dreamt of holding on to.  
  
Slowly, he spread out the things that were in the box. Every paper he had in there. It wasn't just papers to him, though. They were reminders that he hadn't been locked in there for long. Reminders that he had a past:  
  
And perhaps that he had future.  
  
The pain that each paper brought, though, almost made him crumble every single piece of paper and throw it away. With each touch, a pang would strike against his heart; remembering what each thing meant. Magazines clippings that other people from this place had given to him. Pictures that he had brought. Mere papers, but.they represented everything that he once had been. What he couldn't be anymore.  
  
"What are you doing.?"  
  
At the whisper, he looked up immediately. He wasn't scared. He wasn't surprised, either.. The feeling that someone had been watching him had been correct. Shaking his head, he started to put his pieces of paper inside the box once more. As he talked, his voice sounded low as well, "Leave me alone."  
  
He could hear the footsteps getting closer to the bed. He could hear how much closer the shadow that had said the whisper was getting. At the small click of the lamp, though, he flinched back the light and covered his eyes with one hand.  
  
The whisper hadn't been a shadow. He hadn't imagined it. "I told you once: You shouldn't go through those things. They hurt you."  
  
"Why shouldn't I.? Leave me alone."  
  
"You will never be the same. You will never leave from here."  
  
"Yes, I will."  
  
"Is that so. And what makes you so sure?"  
  
He looked up, not frowning. He wasn't scowling, either, at the conversation that he didn't want to be involved in. Hadn't he said to leave him alone? And he didn't even know why he had said he was ever going to leave from this place. Perhaps for the fact that, part of him, still hoped to be left out. Part of him still wanted to be free.  
  
To go back to normal.  
  
"I'm sure.because I'm The Rock. And no one, not even you, can do anything about it." 


	2. My Immortal

The sun had set hours ago, but he wasn't sure just how long. He didn't care, though. A faint light was emitting from the small lamp on the nightstand, and it was the only light in the room. Out in the hall, there was a bright light but, since the door was closed, only a few faint rays could go inside the room through the cracks of the door. The small squeaking from the rocking chair was the only sound that could be heard around the room. His low and even breathing was barely audible for it to be considered a sound. Closing his eyes, he remembered the day that he had been brought into this place. The day his life ended and came crashing down at his feet…  
  
_I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears_  
  
He had always been afraid of being alone. Of not having anyone to share his life with, or being utterly alone with no one else to share what he felt and what he dreamed. He had always been afraid of not having anyone in his life. But, just like with the harsh fact of life, it had to happen sooner or later.  
  
It had been far too soon for him…   
  
_And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave_  
  
Turning to the calendar that was in the room, he realized what month it was. December… Then just two months had passed. It felt like it was so much longer than just two months. It felt like years, not months.   
  
_'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_  
  
Two months… Two months ago, he had thought that his life was perfect. He had a perfectly healthy son who was going to turn five. His marriage with his wife was perfect.   
  
Everything had been perfect…  
  
That same October, he had taken vacation time to be with them. He didn't want to know about Hollywood or about what new feuds were going on in the WWE. All he wanted to do was spend time with his family and, when Vince had given him two weeks, he had been ecstatic. They had all been. Life was perfect.  
  
But perfection has a very high price, and sometimes not even the highest bid for it is high enough…  
  
_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_  
  
Skiing had always been fun for Alex, his little boy. Even if he didn't know how to ski, he had always loved the snow and how to make snow angels, especially when a snowball war would start afterwards. They had gone to the mountains and had rented a cabin there. Those two weeks had been so much fun, that Alex had nicknamed it "the best vacation ever!" And it had been. Not even vacations from when he was little could compare to that. Alex had loved the fact that he had been able to play in the snow, mainly because Florida doesn't get all that much snow; especially Miami.   
  
But vacation was over.   
  
On the day they had to leave, a storm had started to come in. It hadn't been a big thing overnight and he really needed to go back to work. It was time for The Rock to come back from his hiatus and whip someone's ass for the title. Dani had insisted that they should stay the day, to wait for the roads to become less slippery, but he had insisted that they would be fine. That the roads wouldn't be so bad, and that the snow was going to stop as they drove to the airport. For a few hours, it had been just like he had predicted, but they were going so slow that they were late for their flight back home and for his flight to Atlanta for the pay per view that he had to be at the next day.   
  
He and Dani talked about everything that they hadn't been able to talk about. They joked and they laughed, holding hands and her massaging his arm through his thick sweater. Alex had been sleeping on the backseat, too tired from chasing Daddy earlier to be awake by now. Besides, it had been late; way past his bed time.   
  
Everything happened in a second.  
  
_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_  
  
He had always thought that he could protect his life from everything and from anything. That nothing could happen to them if he could be with them.  
  
He couldn't have been more wrong…  
_  
I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me_  
  
It was hard to remember what had exactly happened. All he remembered was that the road had gotten slippery. The car had gotten out of control and Dani had started to get worried. He tried to regain control of the car, but he hadn't been able to. Everything else? That was all a blur. The helicopter ride to the hospital, the emergency room… None of that was in his mind, he had just been told everything. The car had slid down the road before the car flipped itself over, which sent them sliding some more. All that was also erased from his memory; it was as if it never happened and it had all been a nightmare.   
  
He wished it had all been a nightmare…  
  
_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating life  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind_  
  
Even the hospital was a blur, especially after he was awake. Nothing made sense. The doctors told him that he had been the only one that had survived. The details that he had said, he couldn't even remember them… He just knew that he was left alone. That now there was no one that could ever fill the void that he felt inside of him. Him? He was barely injured. Sprained wrist, broken ribs, a concussion and lacerations all over his body and bruising, but that had been it. He wasn't left with anything else. Just scars.   
  
Scars that he would never be able to get rid of.  
  
_Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams_  
  
For about three weeks, he had to stay in the hospital mainly because he had stopped caring. He didn't care about what happened to him or where he was anymore. 'Home' was something he didn't want to be at. Just thinking about it would make him cringe, and he wanted to be anywhere but there. Actually, he didn't want to be anywhere. There were even times in which he wished that he hadn't been the one left alive. That life hadn't played such a nasty card on him. That he was living a nightmare and that, maybe soon, he would wake up and that everything would be normal again.  
  
That, perhaps, things would be perfect again.  
_  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me_  
  
Chronic depression, the doctors said. His apathy for life was worrying everyone who visited him and the fact that he didn't even want to be alive was of concern to many. He was never left alone in fear that he would try something against himself. That perhaps, he would do the merciful thing and that he would stop living. But he never did. It felt like he didn't have enough courage to pull it off.   
  
One night, he had gone to a bar, along with a few other people from work. It had just been a month since it had happened… Things had gone lousy for him, and he had just ruined everyone's night and made them lose their time. He had appreciated the efforts that they had made, but they had failed. Traveling around with the company had been a bad idea. Every time he expected the phone to ring, to hear Dani's voice. Or Alex's… But that didn't happen.   
  
That would never happen anymore.   
  
He had decided to leave before everyone else. After all, the hotel was in walking distance of the bar, he could just walk there. And he had promised the guys that he would. Kurt had tried to go with him, but he had insisted that he stayed, saying that he really needed to be alone. That he needed to be out in the open for a few hours to just…relax a bit. But he didn't relax. In fact, the very opposite happened. Three thugs came out from an alley and, ignoring the fact that he was a wrestler and that he was just their size, they started to surround him. He did all he could to defend himself. That fight, though, was the perfect excuse for him to let go of all of the frustration and stress that he had in him. All the stupidity he felt for driving in the middle of a storm. For all the guilt that he felt for being the cause of his family's death. It was his entire fault… With those thoughts, he had grown angrier at himself and, when he was struggling to take the gun that one of the men had wanted to use, the gun shot itself. He didn't care about what he did, though. All it felt like was that he was able to inflict some of the pain he felt inside onto others.  
  
The judges, though, didn't see it that way.  
  
He was taken to court a few days later for that. His lawyer had done what she could to keep him out of jail by saying that he had been defending himself, something he had been doing. But, what the doctors had said before in the hospital, it was pointed out during the trial and he was sent to a mental facility.  
  
"Just while he gets better," they said.   
_  
These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_  
  
Two months. Two months had passed and he was still in there. He had made a few friends, and a lot more enemies. It felt like everyone was against him. Like nothing could be the same and they were trying to convince him otherwise. Why couldn't they just understand that he couldn't rewind time? That nothing was ever going to change? That his beloved perfection would never, ever, come again?   
  
Until then, though, he was stuck there. He believed that he truly didn't belong there and wanted to be let out, but no one wanted him out. He didn't belong out. Maybe he didn't belong outside, and maybe he would never be able to be the same, but he'd get out.  
  
Of that, he was absolutely sure.  
  
_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me  
_


	3. Visitors

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
**  
  
"Are you coming out to receive your visitor today, Mr. Johnson?"  
  
Dwayne didn't answer. He kept rocking back and forth on the rocking chair, giving his back towards the door and looking towards the window. It was snowing. And with each snowflake, a single tear would run down his cheek, remembering Alex. Remembering his son. And also remembering that that very same snow which Alex loved so much had been around when the accident happened.  
  
When his world tore itself apart.  
  
"Mr. Johnson?"  
  
At the tone of pity in the nurse's voice, he got irritated. Who did they think they were? Wiping his tears away from his cheeks and trying to hide them as much as he could, he stood and slowly started walking outside of his room, holding onto his ribs with the arm that had the sprained wrist. Walking outside had been something that he hadn't done in days. Weeks, maybe.? Not like it mattered to him. For the first few days, the doctors had allowed visits in his room so that other visitors wouldn't see him there, but they realized that that was a bad idea because it meant he was being isolated how he wanted to be. And the point of all this was to bring him back to normal. Heh.  
  
The walls were painted in a very light beige color, and there were no pictures around. There was a single payphone in the whole place, which consisted on the first floor for doctor's offices, visitor's lounge, and the reception by the entrance. On the second floor, there were the rooms for the people staying. They were rooms that were pretty small, but it wasn't like anyone needed anything here. Some were in for depression. Others for rehabilitation of some drug problem that they had, or some other type of addiction. Most were in for depression, though, and it was a pretty expensive place that Vince had found for him. Since the doctors and the nurses tried to keep it as simple as they could, though, that was why it seemed slightly empty. The third floor, where therapy and counseling rooms were set up, though, those were fancy. Hell, the first floor was as well; the only one that wasn't was the second floor. The outside gardens were, as told by others, 'gorgeous'. They had different flowers, a green house, and even water fountains where benches were set up around so visitors and patients could sit outside as much as they'd like. He wouldn't know, though. He never went outside.  
  
As he made his way to the visitor's lounge, he saw just how.cheerful the place was decorated. It had different art work that was pretty colorful, different small "living rooms" for each family that came to visit, and a TV. When he walked in, though, he leaned against the threshold of the door, tired from walking so much. His family wasn't there.why was he here when he could be upstairs?  
  
In a corner, he saw Kurt Angle, fidgeting around in his chair nervously, though.  
  
With a sigh, he debated whether to leave or go talk to him. Before he could answer his own questions, though, Kurt spotted him and smiled, waving him over. Dwayne didn't smile, though. He just started walking towards him and sat down slowly, silent.  
  
Kurt smiled at him, "Hey, man. How have you been? I haven't been over to visit, but we've all been pretty busy." As he talked, Kurt took a look at him for the first time since he had last seen him a few weeks back. Dwayne had lost a lot of weight and it was obvious he hadn't shaved in days. His clothes seemed to be getting old, and he had bags under his eyes; showing that he hadn't been sleeping.  
  
Dwayne simply shrugged, though; not answering.  
  
"Come on, man. You can't just.not talk, you know."  
  
"What are you doing here.?"  
  
With a small smile, Kurt sighed in relief mentally. It was a start. it was more talking than he had done the last time he had been here. "Well, I was in Pittsburg, and I figured to come over and see how you were doing." The 'hospital' was in the middle of nowhere, but it was a few hours away from Pittsburg.  
  
"Huh. How nice of you." After a few minutes of silence, he finally looked up at him. "How's your family?"  
  
The obvious pain that Dwayne went through each time he asked that made Kurt hurt as well. They had been close friends and he had been close to Dani and Alex as well, but Dwayne was taking things pretty hard. Especially because he believed it was his fault. That it was because of him that he was in this place. That it was because of him that his life was now ruined. "They're doing great, thanks. Listen, DJ, do you need anything? Clothes, food, something.?" When Dwayne shook his head, he sighed slightly. "I.talked to your doctors."  
  
Dwayne had been looking down at his hands as they rested on the table. He was mainly staring at the hospital bracelet that was on his left wrist and how it had become loose since they had put it on him the day he had come in. When Kurt said that, he didn't turn to him, though. He acted as if he ignored him.  
  
After all, he knew what they had said.  
  
Kurt, nonetheless, continued; "They say that you don't cooperate in sessions. That you stay in your room the whole time."  
  
"I *am* here for depression, aren't I?" Dwayne turned to Kurt before down at his hand again. "You shouldn't be here. Go back to your family."  
  
"No, I'm not leaving. Dwayne, you're here to get better. When you get better, you can leave from this place. You can go home."  
  
Slowly, Dwayne shook his head, still not turning to him. "Don't have one anyway."  
  
"So you're happy here?" When Dwayne didn't answer after a while, he sighed. "Look. I know what you're going through and I know it must be pretty hard for you to think that it was your fault. I know that you think life is a bitch, and it can be sometimes, but you have so much more to live for. Do you think that Dani and Alex would like to see you like this? You think that they're happy to see you locked up in here? Come on, DJ. We need you in the company. All your friends need you. Your fans, your family. Everyone does."  
  
When Kurt had said that he knew what he was going through, Dwayne had snapped his head towards him, frowning. "You *know* what I'm going through.? Do you?"  
  
Kurt stayed silent for a while before shaking his head. "No. I don't know what you're going through. I just know that you're killing yourself. Slowly, but you're doing it more here than how you were when you were outside. You don't eat, you barely drink anything, you obviously don't sleep. You never go outside to just.walk around. You don't talk with your doctors and you're just stuck in that hole that you insist in staying at. It's hard, Dwayne. It's really hard to come and see you like this. I was hoping you made some change or something.some improvement."  
  
Dwayne stood. "No one asked you to come."  
  
"No, you know what?" Kurt stood in front of him, stopping him from leaving. "Your doctors asked me to come. They thought that by having your best friend come, you'd be able to see that what you're doing is wrong. You *do* have a home to go to."  
  
Dwayne was starting to get upset and irritated at Kurt. In fact, he was getting irritated so much that his lifeless eyes started to harden slowly and to glare. "Where, Kurt? Where do I have a home? In Florida? In Miami where the memories of my son and my wife lurk around everywhere? Huh?"  
  
As Kurt noticed the glare, a small smile spread across his lips. There was a hint of the Dwayne he had met. There was still part of him that wasn't dead yet. "Karen and I've talked about it. You could stay with us while you find something else."  
  
"No, I can't do that."  
  
"Why? Are you scared that you might actually like Pittsburg? You could stay for a few days or as much as you like, honest. We have a guest room and everything, remember? Really, we don't mind. We'd be happy to have you. Now it's all on you. You have to get better, alright?"  
  
A knock made both turn to the door before Dwayne could answer, and a nurse informed that visitation time was over. The two men turned to each other and Dwayne stared at Kurt before shaking his head slowly. "I'll think about it.but thanks."  
  
Nodding, Kurt patted his shoulder as he smiled. "Don't mention it. How are you being treated here, by the way?"  
  
"I.have to go. Visitation's over. Thanks for coming." Not wanting him to stop him, he started to go out towards the stairs again. He didn't want to talk anymore. He was tired. Besides, he didn't want to bore Kurt with the ugly facts of hospital life.  
  
But what he didn't want to talk about was the 'talks' he had with that same person that had talked to him the other night.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Dwayne turned to Kurt and frowned slightly. "Huh?"  
  
"I left you some new clothes and a razor for you to shave with your nurse. Use them, ok? Don't look so unkempt next time, 'cause I'll bring you a visitor next time."  
  
Unsure of what that meant, Dwayne kept frowning in confusion. A visitor? Who else would come see him here? Before he could ask him, though, the same nurse came for him and told them once more visiting was over. With a single wave, he headed towards the stairs and up to his room, silent the whole way and ignoring what Kurt had said. He could hear Kurt's talking with the nurse, but he wasn't interested in it so he didn't pay attention.  
  
On the halls of the second floor, Dwayne didn't look around at the bare walls and kept walking towards his room. He only wanted to sit again.look out the window. When he opened the door, though, he frowned at the sight in front of him. New clothes were laid out on his bed.  
  
He didn't care about any of that, however.  
  
What stood out the most was a note on his nightstand and, after walking to it, he picked it up and read it to himself.  
  
'Passed by and didn't see you. I'll come by later. We have a lot to talk about. P.S-Nice clothes. ~'  
  
Crumbling up the piece of paper, he threw it in the garbage can before sitting down on his rocking chair and closed his eyes. Even if he tried to ignore everything Kurt had said, his words still rang in his mind. But he couldn't.  
  
Could he?  
  
Opening his eyes, he noticed the garbage can and remembered the piece of paper that was in there. Closing his eyes again, he sighed. At least, if he left this place, those talks would be gone.  
  
He wouldn't get visits anymore. 


	4. Haunting Shadows

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
*-~*  
  
Small snow flakes were starting to slowly twirl down, covering the ground with a white layer that expanded itself all across the gardens. It seemed peaceful; beautiful even. In the distance, he saw how a gray rabbit peeked out from behind the dead branches of a small bush and how it hesitantly made its way towards a tree; leaving its paw prints in a trail. Touching the glass of the window, he felt just how cold it was outside. How the cold wanted to creep itself in through the windowpane. Sighing, he removed his hand from the glass and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black Adidas windbreaker jacket that matched his pants. Turning around, he leaned against the wall that was next to the window and leaned his head back. "Why do I have to be here.? You know I won't cooperate."  
  
Lisa Waltham, his therapist, was sitting on a couch. She had a note pad on her lap while her black pen was tucked behind her left ear. Her semi curly light brown hair was tied in a pony tail, but three free strands of hair were resting on the side of her face. She had dark green eyes and her skin was very slightly tanned. With simple sneakers, like the ones she had on, she was around 5'9 and her jeans and sweater showed her slim body figure. With a small smile, she shook her head slightly and said, "You don't "have" to be here, Mr. Johnson."  
  
"But if I'm not, I make 'no progress'." He looked towards her and shook his head slightly. "And why do you call me 'Mr. Johnson'? I always.figured that therapists used the first names."  
  
"Would you like that? It depends on the patients."  
  
Dwayne shrugged and looked out the window, silent. He could feel how the therapist was watching him and examining his every move. Her eyes seemed to be glued onto his expressions so she could figure out a sensitive spot that she could reach in order for him to start talking. But he wasn't. Just like his nickname, he was being a rock and he didn't even care if she noticed or not. When he heard her get up and go to her desk, he turned to her and walked to a couch and sat down. "So.when can I go back to my room?"  
  
Ignoring the question, Lisa leaned back against her chair, smiling. "So how is it that you want to be called? Dwayne?" When she saw Dwayne shrug, she smiled.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Dwayne looked towards the window. "I'm not a little kid who you can lure in with a little 'Hi, I want to be your friend' conversation. It doesn't work that way."  
  
"Then how does it work?"  
  
"You're the shrink here: You're supposed to know. Look, why don't we just say that you.got me to open up. You'll get your little paycheck, and I'll be fine in my room."  
  
Smiling, Lisa shook her head. "Things don't work *that* way, either." She watched him, silent. His pain could be felt without even talking to him. It was something that he was carrying with him and that, obviously, he wouldn't let go. Not soon, at least, and she knew that it wouldn't be easy. As she watched him only looking towards the window, she stood and sat down on the couch next to him, not holding her note pad anymore. Maybe that would make Dwayne more at ease, and let him open up more easily. "Would you like to go outside? Go for a walk instead of being here?"  
  
Dwayne shook his head and simply answered, "I don't go out."  
  
"But you like the snow, right? I've noticed that you've barely taken your eyes off of the window."  
  
"For all you know, I like windows."  
  
Lisa couldn't help but smile at that, and she leaned back. "Wow, then I'd have to say that you'd be the first that I know who likes to just look at the windows."  
  
Silence followed for a while, and Dwayne could feel Lisa's eyes stare at him, still studying him. He couldn't understand why she couldn't just leave him alone. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be in this asylum to begin with.  
  
He didn't even want to live.  
  
It wasn't that he didn't appreciate everyone's efforts to make him better, but he just didn't want to get better. That was the truth, and he just wanted everyone else to understand that and get on with their lives and leave him alone. He didn't notice as tears slowly started to make their way out of his eyes and started a familiar trail down his cheeks and he couldn't stop himself from talking in a very low voice, "My.son loved the snow." Turning to her, he didn't see pity in her eyes. She was the very first person who could see him cry without giving him a sympathetic and apologetic look before telling him that everything would be ok. And, because of all this, he was taken aback by it. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he turned to the window again. "We were coming back from skiing.my family and I, you see."  
  
Even if she didn't show the sympathy on the outside, she *was* sympathetic for his situation. She had known a few details because of the explanations said on his file, but other than that, Dwayne hadn't 'opened up' before. Ever. Not even in the hospital where he had been. After handing him a tissue, she leaned back against her chair. "How old was he?"  
  
"He was barely going to turn five. In February. He was my only son.my only child." Looking down at his hands, he stopped talking for a while as the tears ceased from falling. "I don't.want to talk anymore."  
  
Lisa nodded slightly. "Alright. You did some progress today, Dwayne." She smiled reassuringly at him and stood when he did. "You did very well."  
  
Nodding in response, he started walking out and left without saying anything else. He had made progress? By shedding a few tears and saying a few words? Shaking his head, he made his way to his room and closed the door behind him. When he did, though, he felt how his energy was leaving from his body and how the tears he had tried to keep inside were starting to choke him. Sliding down to the floor and blocking the door, his eyes would watch the snow fall and twirl just outside his window. Outside, where life still went on, even if he wanted to stop it.  
  
He didn't want it to go on.  
  
*  
  
The nurse had brought his dinner but, as usual, he didn't eat it besides from a spoonful or two. But dinner had passed a while ago, now it was time to be asleep. The clouds had moved from the gloomy sky and a few stars had started to appear, illuminating the night. A half moon was also in full view, and it had stopped snowing a while ago. All in all, it was peaceful outside. The only sounds he could hear was a small humming that came from the heater, but he wasn't paying attention to anything. The only thing he was doing was staring at the wall as he lay there, motionless.  
  
A small and faint chuckle was heard and steps were heard as, faintly, the creaking of the rocking chair started being heard as well and, in the darkness, only a shadow was seen rocking back and forth on the chair. "How was therapy today, DJ?"  
  
Dwayne didn't move, knowing he had been there all along.  
  
He always was.  
  
"Made improvement."  
  
The rocking stopped at that phrase. Improvement? No, that was impossible. Not the Dwayne Johnson that came to this same hospital two or so months ago. Steps were heard again, but this time they got close before the shadow stood at the foot of the bed. The voice, instead of being low and whisper- like, now turned into a sneer, "'Improvement'? Oh really. What, you're going to start spilling your guts from now on? You're going to tell that shrink about everything that you're thinking. Everything you feel?"  
  
Dwayne paid no attention to the change of voice. He just realized that he was starting to get cold and, because of that, he held the blanket closer to him. "No. Just because I talked once, it doesn't mean that I'll always talk."  
  
"Uh-huh. That's what you say now. She's like all the other doctors, Dwayne, don't let her lure you into their traps. You'll end up caught in this place forever anyway. You will never see anything from outside until the damn day that you die, you understand? Those bastards will just keep you here forever until you rot." When Dwayne didn't answer nor moved, the sneering was louder. "Dammit, didn't you hear me?"  
  
Throwing the covers aside, Dwayne got up and went towards the window, but instead sat on the rocking chair. "Will you *ever* leave me alone? I don't care. I don't care about anything. Nothing. Why can't anyone understand?"  
  
A small ironic laugh was heard. "A few days ago you were almost swearing that you would get out of this place. You don't remember that?"  
  
"A lot of things change. Especially in a few days."  
  
"Yeah? Yeah, you're right, you know? A lot of things can change in just a few days. Hell, for all you know, you could be out of here in a few days too. If you keep talking, you'll be back out there in a few days, all alone in the big world. Without a home to go to. Without anyone waiting for you."  
  
Silence was the only thing heard for a few more minutes. Not even the creaking of the chair was heard; even Dwayne was sitting still as he looked towards the window. No voices anymore were heard. No more one-sided arguments were heard either. No noises at all. Everything was completely silent.  
  
It seemed like the silence just kept expanding itself. Suddenly, Dwayne was overtaken by shivering, but he didn't want to go back to bed anymore. As if a gust of cold wind had suddenly gotten inside the room and had replaced all the warmth that the heater had brought.  
  
The room was cold, just how he felt inside.  
  
After what seemed like forever, Dwayne finally sighed and turned around; his mouth open as if he was about to talk. He looked around, frowning slightly, before sitting back on the chair, turning once more to the window.  
  
The shadow was gone. 


	5. Flashback

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
*-~*  
  
~*Flashback*~  
  
Dwayne stirred lazily in the king size bed of the cabin where his family was staying at for vacation. As he did so, though, he realized that Dani was sleeping peacefully next to him as his arms held her protectively. With a small, lazy smile, he watched her sleep and heard as her breathing was soft and easy; a sign that she was in a deep sleep.  
  
'God, she's beautiful.,' he thought, smiling.  
  
The cabin was still and silent, an obvious sign that his little four year old boy was still asleep. If he were awake, the sound of cartoons would be heard from anywhere in the cabin, or he would have jumped in bed with them. Heh, in short, Dani would be wide awake by now. But everyone was asleep except for him.  
  
He wasn't alone, though, even if he was the only one awake. His wife was there, in his arms, and his son was in the room across the hall from them. They were all safe.  
  
Everything was perfect.  
  
As he watched Dani sleep, he was doing all he could to not kiss her: if he did that she'd surely wake up, and she needed to sleep. Besides, she looked too peaceful to wake up. Very gently, however, he caressed her cheek before, gently, brushing her hair away from her face; tucking it behind her ear.  
  
Suddenly, Dwayne saw how a small smile started to slowly spread itself across her face. She was awake, and feeling how her husband kept caressing her cheek with his thumb. Dwayne, at this, kissed her cheek softly before kissing her lips very lightly to gently wake her up from her sleep. Once she opened her eyes, he smiled at her and kissed her again. "I love you."  
  
Dani smiled and kissed his cheek after kissing him back each time. "I love you too, sweetie." Snuggling close to him as he held her protectively, she smiled up at him. "How long have you been awake for?"  
  
Kissing her forehead, Dwayne smiled and said, "Long enough to know that I've never loved you more."  
  
Sharing another kiss, they held each other closer to each other. When they had gotten married, they had been in love with each other. In fact, neither of them knew that they could ever love anyone so much. And now. Now they loved each other more than before. Pulling back slightly, Dani smiled and kissed him again before resting her head on his shoulder as Dwayne held her around her waist. "I love it here, Dwayne. I wish we could stay here longer."  
  
With a small smile, Dwayne kissed the top of her head before holding her closer. "I know, baby, I want to stay longer too. I have to go to work, though."  
  
"Yeah, I know. But.that storm is starting today, remember? We can't be driving in that weather."  
  
Dwayne sighed, resting his cheek gently on the top of her head. "We'll be fine, Dani, really. I'll drive really carefully, and nothing will happen. Everything will be ok; I promise. You believe me.?"  
  
Nodding, Dani grinned slightly and kissed his cheek. "Of course, Dwayne. That's not even a question." She brought a hand up to his hair and gently started to pass her fingers along his hair, knowing that he loved that. She noticed how Dwayne grinned and buried his face in the crook of her neck, and, also grinning, she held the back of his neck with her other hand. She loved him so much. Whenever she just saw him or heard his voice, she could feel how her heart did a full flip and the so-called 'butterflies' would start fluttering in her stomach. Every time they held each other, she felt so complete. It was something so indescribable that it was hard to fathom. That, however, was what she loved about loving him. It was something that thrilled her, something that nothing would ever end, that she adored the feeling. "Dwayne.?"  
  
Dwayne turned to her, smiling. Caressing her cheek gently, he kept holding her with his other arm. "Yeah, sweetheart?"  
  
"We'll always be together.right.?"  
  
Taken aback by the question, Dwayne looked at her in surprise. What had brought that question up? But he knew that they would always be together. That nothing would ever separate them from each other. Smiling reassuringly, he nodded. "Yeah, honey. We will always be together. Nothing could ever separate us. Ever." Kissing her again, Dwayne pulled back only very slightly to touch her stomach gently, grinning. "Besides.we could never leave our children alone."  
  
Laughing lightly, Dani kissed his lips before snuggling close to him again. "We don't know if I'm pregnant."  
  
Grinning, Dwayne wrapped his arms around her waist. "Ah, you will be soon. Because our little Alex needs a little sister."  
  
They both laughed before they kissed each other, still holding each other. Neither of them knew what was going to happen, and neither of them knew if Dani was truly pregnant.  
  
And neither of them knew what was going to happen later tonight.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Waking with a start, Dwayne looked around, breathing heavily and his breathing shaky. He didn't know how or when he had fallen asleep, but now he wished that he hadn't. That was the exact reason why he didn't want to sleep anymore. Dani had been there. He could still feel her in his arms. He could still feel her warmth and the easiness in her breath. He could still feel her hair in his hands. How her warm skin felt under his touch.  
  
How his hand could still feel how it had touched her stomach, in the hope that a little baby girl was growing there.  
  
Shaking his head, he got out of bed as quickly as he could, stumbling as he tried to get away from the bed. When he got to the wall, he leaned against it, feeling his tears falling down his cheeks and how powerless he felt. How scared 'The Rock' felt. How grief felt like it was ripping his heart apart.  
  
"Ah," he heard someone say again. It was the same voice. "Had a dream of your family, did you? I thought you had made 'improvement'."  
  
Startled, Dwayne turned to the corner of the room where the voice was. Shaking his head, he slid down to the floor. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone."  
  
The voice kept talking. "You *do* know you could put an end to your misery, right? It's really easy. All you have to do won't take long. And all you have to use is ready for you."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Go to your dresser."  
  
Hesitating, Dwayne stood up and walked to his dresser slowly, feeling how his tears wouldn't stop falling. When he got to the dresser, he saw how something was shining. It seemed like the moonlight was giving him the answer to his problems. The key to end the puzzle was there, waiting for him. The blade of a pair of scissors laid there, motionless on top of the dresser. As he looked at them, he frowned slightly; not knowing how they had gotten there. Turning to the corner of the room where the shadow had been, he saw how, once again, it was gone. The voice wasn't there urging him to pick it up. Now it was up to him.  
  
All he had to do was pick it up. 


	6. Voices

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
*-~*  
  
A faint and inconstant beeping slowly started to wake him up. Beeping? He didn't open his eyes at first, trying to remember why they were closed. He hadn't fallen asleep, right? No, of course not; he didn't have dreams. But he was in bed. He was laying down and covered with a blanket up to his chest: he could feel the blanket on top of him. But there was something else that was on him.  
  
Restraints.  
  
They were around his wrists and around his ankles. Opening his eyes, he tried to look down to see what was holding him down, but as he tried to raise his head, a sudden feeling of wooziness overtook him. He was extremely lightheaded, for some reason. Had the doctors drugged him? Did they inject something in him again? He tried to raise his hands up to a view so he could see what was around his wrists, but as he did so, something felt like it was burning in his wrists. What the hell.? Had this been what that voice told him?  
  
Where was he?  
  
"Mr. Johnson?"  
  
Dwayne turned slowly towards where the voice came, and he saw Lisa Waltham walking in, smiling slightly, and walking towards the chair next to his bed. "I'm so glad you woke up. You scared us. All of us." She sat next to him and took a good look at him. He did look slightly better. He was extremely pale, though, and it was obvious that it was slightly hard for him to breathe. "Would you like anything? Some water to drink or anything."  
  
Slowly, Dwayne shook his head and for the first time realized that he wasn't in his room. That the window that he always looked at wasn't where it was supposed to be. That, in fact, there were no windows. Frowning, he looked around as quickly as he could, starting to breathe heavier. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't his room. And he wasn't even wearing his clothes; he was wearing a white gown that looked like the one back in the hospital after the accident. It was cold. The blankets were cold. The beeping was annoying, and the whiteness in the room was something that was slowly starting to irritate him. "Where am I? Why am I here? This isn't my room!"  
  
"No, Mr. Johnson, it isn't."  
  
"I thought you were going to call me Dwayne."  
  
Lisa looked at him for a short moment before frowning slightly when she realized that he was confused. Could it be? How could he not remember what had happened? He had been conscious when they had found him. "You don't remember what happened?" Dwayne, instead of answering, gave her a blank look. "Mr. Johnson, you were found in your room, on the floor, bleeding."  
  
Frowning in confusion, Dwayne set his head back down on the pillow and shook his head. "Why would I be bleeding?"  
  
"Dwayne, you tried to kill yourself." Very gently, she lowered the blanket down to his stomach and raised one of his hands as high as she could. She moved the restraints that he had on his wrist slightly lower, and she showed him how a bandage was covering his wrists down to the middle of his lower arm. They even had stains of blood on them; showing the vertical cuts that he had made. Carefully, she set the restraint back in its place and put his hand back down before covering him again. "A nurse found you laying on the floor, bleeding. You were conscious."  
  
He what? He had finally gotten enough courage to do it? But. He hadn't tried to kill himself. Sure, he had thought about it, but then again that had been the only thing that he had been thinking for months now. He hadn't done anything. His memory was blurry, but the last things he remembered were the dream that he had had. The fact that he had actually slept and remembered that morning when Dani and Alex had died. He remembered how he had woken up, crying because of that. But, as he remembered that, he also remembered the conversation.  
  
The scissors that had been on the nightstand.  
  
Slowly, he shook his head. "No. I didn't. I didn't try anything."  
  
"Mr. Johnson, we found you on the floor, bleeding, and the scissors still in your hands."  
  
"But I wasn't. That couldn't have been. I talked to someone after I woke up from a dream and, sure, the scissors had been there, but I didn't do it."  
  
Lisa sighed. "How did you even have scissors? No patient has access to scissors, and they shouldn't have been in your room."  
  
Dwayne was starting to get irritated, both for the fact that she didn't seem to be listening to him nor letting him talk. "They weren't mine, Ms. Waltham. I woke up and they were there."  
  
Lisa stayed silent, watching him. He seemed to be honest. "Who had you been talking to?"  
  
"I.don't know. Every time he comes to 'visit', he comes during the night and never lets me see his face, nor turn on the lights. But we talk. Well.mostly him. He said that that room had been his. That that's why he goes."  
  
Frowning, Lisa stared at him intently. A former patient? Nurses were on watch during the night, not letting the patients get out of their rooms to 'visit.' And no one had been changed from rooms, and there wasn't one patient that had been left from that place and came back again; that was why this hospital was so famous. But how could Dwayne not remember? Could he be making that up? Maybe deny that everything happened, just how he did with the deaths of his wife and son?  
  
Could he be making up that voice he said he talked to?  
  
It wasn't uncommon for people that were depressed to do so. It was a way to let out some feelings they kept inside with 'people' that they felt comfortable with. Dwayne, though, hadn't shown any signs that he had been doing that. But, then again, he had been silent enough to think about it. Nonetheless, Lisa nodded slightly and stood. "I'll.go see when they'll bring you some water and if your family members were notified. I'll be back in a while." Without saying anything else, she walked out the door.  
  
Dwayne watched her leave, frowning. Even if she hadn't said anything, her eyes explained everything. She thought that he was making everything up. That he had deliberately taken those scissors and tried to bleed to death. It sounded like a good plan, but he hadn't even thought about it for a long enough time to actually pull it off. He hadn't done it, dammit. He hadn't done it. He had been alone, sure, but he hadn't taken those scissors and done that. He hadn't, and he was sure. But. How could he be here, then? How could this be happening too? No. It was another nightmare. It was something else that he would be waking up and forget about later.  
  
He wasn't crazy.  
  
*.:.:.:.*  
  
The howling of the wind could be heard, even if no windows were in the room. He was wide awake, staring at the ceiling above him. He couldn't sleep. He refused to sleep, actually. The doctor had injected a tranquilizer in him, but he was fighting it. No one was with him in the room; he was alone. The restraints were still on his wrists and his ankles, and he was covered up with the same blanket. He was really cold, but the doctors kept saying that it was because of the blood loss he had suffered. That it was normal.  
  
But he didn't care.  
  
There was a small light turned on in the corner of the room, but every other corner of the room was extremely dark for the lack of windows. The heart monitor that had been hooked to him was no longer there, so the beeping was gone.  
  
Everything was silent.  
  
"Finally got enough courage to do it, huh?"  
  
Turning to the voice, Dwayne frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh, you should have expected it, DJ."  
  
"What happened that night? You were the one who put the scissors there, wasn't it?"  
  
"No, no, no. You were."  
  
Dwayne frowned in confusion and lifted his head very slightly. "N- No. I didn't take it to my room. You put them there! You pointed it out, remember? When I woke up?"  
  
A laugh was heard. "Why, you have memory problems now too, Dwayne? I think you should be in a real asylum now. You're just imagining things. The scissors were brought in that room by you. No one else took them there. It was you. And you tried to kill yourself. You tried to end your misery. You didn't want to live anymore, remember? So, you just found the easy way out. You looked for the way to just.end it all."  
  
As he talked, Dwayne didn't say anything. It was all true. If he could have, he would have 'pulled the plug' a long time ago. If someone would have left him alone and he would have had what he needed, he wouldn't have lived this long. He would have ended it before any of this could have happened. He would have never known this place, and he wouldn't be talking to the person that was there in the room. He would be gone; just how he wanted to be  
  
Life would have stopped, just how he wanted it to.  
  
But he knew for a fact that he hadn't taken those scissors in the room. They had been there when he woke up. *He* hadn't done it. He hadn't.  
  
Had he.?  
  
Shaking his head slightly, he frowned. "You're lying. I didn't."  
  
"Of course you did." Slowly, steps started to get closer to the bed. "You honestly don't remember? It was your plan to have them there. You wanted to just end it. Everything else? You wanted to send it all to hell. It wasn't *me* that did it." A click was heard, and the light from the lamp got slightly stronger, bringing light to the whole room. Dwayne stared at the owner of the voice in shock as he walked towards the bed. "*We* did it. You planned it.and everything else was up to me." As Dwayne could finally see him, he realized why the voice had sounded so familiar. It hadn't been a past patient. It hadn't been someone who had been in his room.  
  
It was.him.  
  
It was The Rock.  
  
The hair cut. The clothes, the presence. It was who he had once been. The well dressed cocky self who he had once been. The one who could never be again. The one who hadn't lost anything.  
  
The voice he had been listening to had been himself the whole time.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Once again, Dwayne opened his eyes quickly, gasping. The beeping of the heart monitor was quick and unsteady; showing how startled he had gotten because of the dream. Two nurses and a doctor were holding him down, mainly because he had tried to fight them even as he slept, but when they saw that he was awake, they all stared at him intently; trying to see what was wrong with him. Shaking, he leaned back on the pillow and shut his eyes, turning to the side and trying to make his breathing go back to normal. It wasn't real. It hadn't been real.  
  
Had it.?  
  
He felt how the grip of the nurses and the doctors let go of him and prepared his arm for a shot. Before he could argue against it, the feeling of the needle in his arm and how the dizziness grew; starting to knock him out.  
  
The door was then heard how it opened and Dwayne could hear Lisa's voice, "What's wrong? What happened?"  
  
"He suddenly woke up, Ms. Waltham. I don't know why, but he just.woke up. He was very agitated."  
  
Lisa turned to Dwayne, about to ask him if he was alright, but he was already asleep. After the doctor checked on him, she watched as he and the nurses walked out. Sighing, she turned to him. His whole situation was an enigma. She wanted to do all she could to help him and to help him rid of what was haunting him. But it was hard without him letting anyone even get close. It was also hard because of his lack of desire to keep on living. As she watched him sleep, she thought of what she had told him. About him talking to someone.  
  
Before her thoughts could continue, she sighed once again and walked outside. As she closed the door, she turned around to leave but let out a small surprised yelp when she saw someone in front of her. It was a man. He was around 6'2. His blond hair was short, and his clear blue eyes seemed cold. Emotionless, and grim. Lisa tried to hide her surprise when she had seen him and put her hand on her chest; trying to make her heart from stop beating so hard. "Who. I'm sorry, I was.surprised. Wh. What are you doing here?"  
  
"I am sorry to have disturbed you, Ms. Waltham."  
  
"Jake, what are you doing here? You're not supposed to be down here. You're supposed to be upstairs, guarding the halls..."  
  
Nodding, Jake smiled. "Yes, Ms. Waltham, but I wanted to see how Mr. Johnson was doing."  
  
"Oh, right. You were the one that found him. He's. . .recovering. The doctors said he'll be fine, physically. Mentally, well, that's where I come in."  
  
"Ah, I'm sure that you'll do fine. You always do, right?"  
  
Lisa smiled slightly. "Thanks. If you'll excuse me, I have to get going. You should do the same, before you get in trouble by your official." Smiling slightly once more, she headed out of the infirmary of the asylum and went to the stairs; heading for her office. As she did so, however, she felt how she was overtaken by shivers. As if the storm that was going on outside was starting to slowly creep in the hospital.  
  
Jake watched her go, a small smile on his face and making sure that she was upstairs. Turning, he looked around the halls; making sure that no one was there. He was a nurse in the hospital, and tonight it was his turn to be one of the ones that guard the halls of the second floor. When he made sure that no one was around, he opened the door to Dwayne's room and, through the light of the hall that managed to get in the room, he noticed that he was sleeping, his head turned to another wall. Jake had been the one that had been the one that had informed the doctors that Dwayne had been found on the ground, staring up at the ceiling with his wrists slashed and bleeding. Shaking his head and clicking his tongue twice, he closed the door again and went back upstairs. 


	7. Talks

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
*-~*  
  
Cheery music that was being played in the halls could be heard from inside the room; even if the door was closed. Everything else was silent. The silence that he had once preferred so much was slowly starting to get to him. It seemed deafening at some points, even. Sighing, he shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts before looking away from the door.  
  
"So how does it feel to be out of the infirmary, Dwayne?"  
  
Dwayne turned to Lisa before walking to a single couch and sitting. The doctors, after making sure that he was sane enough, had let him go back to his room. He was being watched on constantly, however, and they didn't let him have any visitors yet. Besides from recovering from the blood loss, he was fine, so the doctors had let him out. Also, Lisa had been talking to him; which let the doctors think that he was making improvement. With a sigh, Dwayne turned to her again and shrugged.  
  
Lisa watched him, silent. He had improved physically, but mentally he was exactly the same. Except for the fact that he barely talked anymore. It was as if he was getting worse. As she watched him see the scars that were on his wrists, she still noticed the confusion that still lingered in his mind. As if everything that happened wasn't even in his mind.  
  
"Why are they putting music on? They never did before."  
  
Surprised at his voice, Lisa looked up at him. Smiling, she nodded towards the door. "The holidays are coming up. You haven't been downstairs, but it's filled with decorations. The nurses, the doctor, and the director of the hospital think that it helps the patients."  
  
"No offense, but that's a load of bull. It does the exact opposite." He stayed silent again for a few moments. "Do people stay here for the holidays.? The patients, I mean."  
  
"Some do, yes. The ones that are stable enough and can be taken care of at home by someone responsible can go home for five days."  
  
Turning to her, Dwayne sighed under his breath. "I don't want to.go anywhere or anything like that, but.what category would I fit in?"  
  
Lisa couldn't help but smile slightly at the question; but it was mainly nervousness. She didn't know what to say at first, but after a short while she decided to tell him the truth. "To be honest, after what.happened, I'm not sure. But.I doubt that you'll go out during these holidays."  
  
Shrugging in apathy, Dwayne sighed and sank slightly in his couch. It was comfortable enough for him to stay there. In fact, that was what he did every day during therapy since he had been let out. He'd come to the office, sit down, listen to Lisa ask questions and shrug, shake his head, or nod for answers. As he sat there, he let his eyes wander around the office for the first time since he got there. Unlike the shrink from the hospital, Lisa's office was plain; just with the necessities. There was a bookshelf, a small living room where they were now and where the therapies took place, and, of course, her desk. Her desk had a few stacks of papers and, for the first time he realized that there was a picture frame; with a picture of a little girl there. Her hair was like Lisa's, except it wasn't as curly as hers. The little girl's eyes were a dark blue, but filled with innocence and happiness. She had a big grin as she looked at the camera, holding a white bunny. As he looked at the picture, he stayed there; watching it for a short while.  
  
"That's my daughter," He heard Lisa say.  
  
"How old is she.?"  
  
Lisa stayed silent for a short while, knowing that it was bringing him memories to just look at a picture. "She's six. That was taken last year, during Easter. Her name's Emily."  
  
Dwayne stood up and went to the desk, looking at the picture. He stayed silent for a while, staring at it. "You're here a lot, though. How do you find time to be with her?"  
  
"To be honest, it's really hard." Smiling, Lisa went to him and took the picture from him. "But my husband does all he can to help. He's a lawyer, but he loves spending time with her."  
  
Nodding slightly, Dwayne stared at it before going to the window. "I used to hate going to work sometimes."  
  
Lisa put the picture frame back down on her desk and turned to him, leaning against the desk. "Because of your family?"  
  
Dwayne stayed silent for a while, looking out at the white fields. In fact, about five minutes passed by before he started talking in a low voice. "I almost never took vacations. I was a workaholic, and I only spent little time at home. Sometimes I wouldn't see my son or my wife until the weekend or something like that. It was really hard. Heh, I saw Alex growing up through pictures and the phone."  
  
"How did they take it?"  
  
"Dani would understand, but we missed each other a lot. A marriage is hard enough, but living practically a world away from her.that was harder than anything." Smiling slightly, Dwayne looked down at his hand and to where his wedding band would be. "Then we both wanted a baby, and Alex was born." Chuckling sadly, he shook his head slightly before looking out the window. "In fact, he set up his own schedule for coming. We hadn't planned to have him when he came, but we were thrilled anyway. He was very loved. We loved him so much."  
  
As Lisa watched Dwayne's tears starting to trail down his cheeks, she wanted to offer him a tissue, but she knew that he'd stop talking and that, probably, he wouldn't talk anymore. Instead, she stayed silent and kept listening.  
  
Dwayne closed his eyes when he felt the knot in his throat choke him. Nevertheless, he did his best to swallow it before he opened his eyes again and kept looking out the window. "If Alex would have been the only one to have died in that crash. . .Dani would have died a few days later anyway from the heartbreak. Every time I went home, she'd say how Alex looked out for her, and helped her in everything he could." Smiling sadly, he shook his head. "That was my boy. He was a little kid-our baby-and he already knew how to act like if he was a grown-up. He couldn't wait to grow up. Be in the 'business', like his father."  
  
"Did you let him watch the shows?"  
  
Shaking his head, Dwayne turned to her. "No, Dani and I were pretty much set on that. We did our best to explain to him what I did, and he loved it." Dwayne closed his eyes and swallowed the thick knot in his throat that seemed to be choking him. It was so hard to just.talk anymore. He couldn't go on anymore. He couldn't keep bringing the memories back. He couldn't because he knew that it would choke him and.  
  
Lisa saw that he couldn't go on anymore, and she didn't want to push him. Taking a tissue, she went to him and handed it to him. Just how she had been fearing earlier, the second he turned to her it was obvious he didn't want to keep going.  
  
When Dwayne saw the tissue, he realized that he had been crying. He hadn't wanted to cry so, furiously, he wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry."  
  
Lisa frowned in confusion. "Sorry for what?"  
  
"It's stupid to cry. It doesn't do anything."  
  
Smiling sympathetically, Lisa shook her head. "It does a lot, Mr. Johnson. It helps with the.grieving process."  
  
Dwayne shook his head and started walking towards the door. "Maybe, but it doesn't bring them back." Before she could say anything, he walked out of the room and went back to his own. Crying wouldn't solve anything.  
  
It wouldn't rewind time. 


	8. Merry Christmas

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
*-~*  
  
The low sound of music that was being heard from the radio seemed to be drowned by the small hum that the motor caused. As Kurt Angle drove, he was glad that the snow had ceased from falling. Christmas Eve had come quickly and, not wanting to have Dwayne spend it alone, he had invited him to come along with him and his family. It had been hard to convince his doctors to give him permission to leave for a few days, but he had been able to do so. In fact, they were just on the way back home.  
  
Dwayne, on the other hand, didn't care much about where he spent the holidays. But Kurt had been set on it, so that he just agreed to it. Lisa had been happy that he had made some improvement, so she had even said that it would be fine if he spent a few days away from the hospital. He wanted to be alone, though. He didn't want to see anyone's pity towards him because it was going to be the first time that he was going to spend the holidays without his family. Before his mind could continue working, though, Kurt's voice brought him back from his thoughts.  
  
"I'm going to stop here at the store for something that Karen needs for dinner. Do you want something?"  
  
Not turning to him, Dwayne shook his head. He was sitting on his seat, his head turned towards the window as he leaned back. "I'll be fine."  
  
Kurt stared at him, not knowing if he should believe him. After staring at him for a long while, though, he nodded slightly and stopped the car before getting out. Dwayne watched him leave, silent. He knew why he had hesitated; Lisa had warned him not to leave him alone for too long. That he "could become a danger to himself again." Sighing, he reached over for the stereo and turned up the volume a little. It had been so long since he had actually listened to music from the radio. He wanted to be alone, but he didn't want to think anymore.  
  
As Dwayne waited for Kurt, he just kept leaning back against the seat; not even caring about what time it was or where they were. Even if he wasn't turning towards the store, he knew that Kurt had been spotted by some fans and that they were all asking him for his autograph. Heh, he could hear kids calling out to their parents telling them that they wanted to get an autograph. He had been stuck in that hospital for a long time, but as he heard the fans calling out for Kurt, something inside seemed to clench and turn; as if telling him that he missed that. That he wanted to go back to that.  
  
That he wanted to go back to normal.  
  
But, even if that feeling seemed to stir inside of him, he knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to normal. He would never be able to go back to what he had once believed to be normal because, to be honest, he didn't know how to go back. Letting out a small sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cold window. When the door opened a few minutes later, he didn't move at all. He didn't make a single sound; which made Kurt think that Dwayne had fallen asleep and, not wanting to wake him up, he started the car and kept on driving. It was easier that way.  
  
*-*-*  
  
Karen had been in the kitchen, getting started with the Christmas Eve dinner that she was going to serve that night. She was still a bit unsure about having Dwayne over for their Christmas, but she also knew that it meant a lot to Dwayne that he was coming, so she had just decided to go along with it. It would be for a week, but she just hoped that everything would go smoothly and that nothing out of the ordinary would happen.  
  
"Mom? Mom, is Dad's friend really going to come over?"  
  
When she heard Kyle's voice, she turned to him and smiled. Kyle was Kurt's and her eight-year-old son, but to them, he was still their baby. He was helping to set the table, so he was carrying the plates that they were going to use. His short light-brown hair was like hers, but his eyes were just like Kurt's. In fact, as he looked up at her as he asked her, she could almost swear that that was the same expression that Kurt would have if he were to be asking something. Smiling, she kissed his forehead gently and started towards the dining room with a bowl of salad. "Yeah, sweetheart, so be nice. You already know him, remember?"  
  
"Oh, Dwayne?"  
  
Frowning slightly, Karen turned to him. "'Dwayne'.? You had always called him 'Uncle Dwayne', baby."  
  
Kyle stayed silent for a while as he put the plates where they were supposed to go. He knew that his mother was looking at him, waiting for an answer and, after he finished, he sighed and looked up at her. "Mom, why does he have to come? Everyone says that he's crazy."  
  
At that, Karen turned to him quickly again. "What?"  
  
"That's what everybody says.!" Kyle sighed and sat down on a chair. "I mean, isn't that why he doesn't wrestle anymore? And why he's in some hospital?  
  
Karen sighed and went to him before kneeling down in front of him, taking his hands. "Kyle, he's not crazy. Yeah, he's sick, but he's not crazy. It's just that, after his family died, he just." How was she going to explain that to him? She couldn't tell him the truth without Kurt there. "Baby, he's not crazy, ok? So don't say that. He's still your Uncle Dwayne and he's going to spend Christmas with us and he's leaving until New Year's, so enjoy it while he's here, ok? And-."  
  
"And don't mention anything about Dani or Alex, I know, Mom. Dad told me."  
  
Kurt opened the front door and walked in, carrying Dwayne's backpack. It had started to snow so, after putting the bag down and he started taking off his coat, he tried to brush away the snow flakes that were on him. "Karen? Kyle? We're home."  
  
Dwayne looked around, starting to take off his black coat that seemed to be, now, too big for him. For pants, he was wearing dark gray slacks and a black dress shirt plus his black shoes. It was Christmas even, and he was used to be formal for the dinner; especially if it was in someone else's house. Kurt had brought over the clothes, so his clothes were slightly baggy on him since he had lost a lot of weight since he had worn those clothes. As he looked around, he saw that Kurt's two story house was unchanged; it had that.home-y feeling. While he took in his surroundings, he didn't hear when Kurt was talking to him. It wasn't until Kurt patted his back that he turned to him with slightly wide eyes. "What?" When Kurt nodded towards Karen, who was starting to walk up to them, Dwayne turned to her and smiled; forcing it out. He was glad to see her, but he didn't feel up to smiling. "Hi, Karen."  
  
Karen smiled and went to him, hugging him how she usually did. For a long time, Dwayne and his family had become almost like their own family because Kurt considered Dwayne as a brother. Dani had also been a close friend of hers, and it had been horrible what had happened with her and Alex, but Dwayne was obviously the one that was the worst in handling it. From what she knew through Kurt, she knew that he wasn't making much progress and that, in some doctors' eyes, they knew that he wouldn't get better. It broke her heart to think that he would spend the rest of his days living in an asylum and with nurses and doctors that cared for his every need-she knew that Dwayne usually hated hospitals and everything about them-but there was not much that they could do about it. "Hey, Dwayne, it's nice to see you. I'm glad that you were able to come."  
  
Dwayne smiled. "Thanks for inviting me." He was about to say something else, but footsteps were heard walking in and, turning to where they came from, he saw Kurt's and Karen's only child: Kyle. Smiling, he waved. "Hey, Kyle."  
  
Hesitating, Kyle went to him, smiling, and hugged him. "Hi, D- Uncle Dwayne."  
  
Smiling slightly, Dwayne knelt down in front of him and patted his shoulder as if everything was normal. For Kyle, he would at least pretend. "What, you're not going to ask me what I brought you?"  
  
Hearing this, Kyle's eyes seemed to light up and a big smile appeared on his face. "You brought me something?"  
  
Nodding, Dwayne reached into his pocket of his coat-the largest one-and took out a small box. He had asked Kurt if they could stop by some toy store on the way there, and he had gotten him something before getting there. "I heard they were pretty famous this year, but I don't know if you already have it."  
  
Grinning, Kyle looked up at his mom and then at his dad and, when they both nodded their permission to let him open the present, his grin widened and right there and then he ripped open the wrapper. His eyes widened at the GameBoy Advanced SP and the two games that were there, waiting for him to be opened. "Wow, Uncle Dwayne! I didn't have this yet!"  
  
Dwayne's smile seemed to grow slightly at his reaction. "Good. I'm glad that you liked it."  
  
"Thank you! I'm going to go call Brian and tell him!"  
  
While Kyle ran up to his room to call his best friend and tell him of the news, Karen smiled up at Dwayne again when he stood. "Thanks, Dwayne, but you didn't have to do that."  
  
"Ah, it was nothing. Besides, I didn't want to break tradition." Smiling, they all went to sit down; waiting for dinner to be ready.  
  
Dinner had been pretty much uneventful and, after that, Kyle's own tradition of opening a present before going to bed to wait for Santa Claus started. When Karen and Kurt handed Dwayne one of his presents, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the fact that he hadn't gotten them anything and they had gone through the trouble of buying him something. But, as they explained, he didn't need to worry. When Kyle went to bed, they stayed up talking, but Dwayne didn't cooperate much. He tried his best to act somewhat normal with Karen, but it was hard and each subject would seem to be somewhat too close to Dani. Each time those subjects were brought up, the pain on Dwayne's face would be brought up again so, not long after, he decided to go back upstairs too, and to the guest room that they had gotten ready for him.  
  
**  
  
It was well past midnight, and Dwayne was still wide awake on his bed. All of the lights were off and the curtains were closed, but the movements of the tree branches because of the wind were still obvious with the shine of the moon. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the backboard of the bed and closed his eyes. It hadn't even been a day since he had been there, and he already didn't want to be there.  
  
Suddenly, he could hear voices but, figuring that it was Karen and Kurt getting the Christmas tree ready for Kyle, he just kept his eyes closed.  
  
"He doesn't want to be here, Kurt, how hard is it for you to see that?!"  
  
At that, Dwayne opened his eyes and frowned.  
  
"Damn it, Karen, he just needs a little time!"  
  
"Time? Until when, Kurt? Years?"  
  
"He's going through a tough time, ok? Just.wait."  
  
Frowning deeper, Dwayne got out of bed and opened the door; being able to hear what was going on easier since they were arguing downstairs in the living room.  
  
"It's Christmas, Kurt, of course it's going to hurt him, but it's the first year! He could get into a deeper depression-"  
  
"Oh, please, Karen."  
  
"All I'm saying is that he should be in a hospital where he can be watched by the nurses so he won't try anything against himself. I don't want Kyle to run in his room to wake him up so he can come down to open gifts with us and find him dead, ok?"  
  
When only a silence followed that, Dwayne stepped out of the room and went towards the stairs; feeling as if he was back to being a kid listening to his parents argue while they thought that all the children were asleep. Finally, Kurt's voice was heard. "He'll be fine. It just hurts him, Karen. His wife and son both died. The same day and for the same reason."  
  
"I know, Kurt." A short silence was heard and, when Karen started talking again, her voice was shaky. "But he wasn't the only one who suffered the loss. She was one of my best friends, and it hurts too. And I know it hurts you because he's your best friend, but because of that you have to do what's best for him."  
  
"What's best for him is to not be alone. Not on Christmas."  
  
From where he was, Dwayne could hear Kurt and Karen talking, but more normally. He didn't want to keep listening to their conversation, though, so he went back to his room and closed the door very quietly. He knew that he shouldn't stay; that he shouldn't be the reason why Karen and Kurt fought. He had not wanted to cause any problems, so after changing he got his clothes ready again. The hospital had told Kurt not to let him go out on his own because he could run away or something for the like, but he knew that if he told Kurt he wanted to go back to the hospital he would ask questions and wouldn't take him back. After looking through some cabinets and drawers, he finally found a piece of paper and a pen and, sitting down, he started writing:  
  
'Kurt, Karen, thanks for everything that you've done. I don't want to cause any trouble, though, and I'd rather leave before I cause any problems. Thanks for your hospitality; I appreciate it. And, don't worry, Kurt, I think I can find my way back to the hospital. ~Dwayne'  
  
Standing, he put the pen down next to the paper and got his clothes before going to the window and opening it. Even if the room where he was was located on the second floor, he managed to make his way down and taking his backpack with him. Once down, he started off in the direction where they had come from; but not really knowing where to go. As he made his way through the snow, his hands in his pockets, he saw a car drive up to him but he tried to ignore it and pretend he hadn't seen anything.  
  
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be in that house?"  
  
At the familiar voice, Dwayne turned to the driver of the car and was surprised to see Jake there. Surprised and somewhat worried. If he had been assigned to be out there, watching over so he wouldn't run away and making sure that everything was going smoothly, then he would return him to Kurt's house or take him to the hospital. "Y. Yeah. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh, I live close by and I saw you get out. I was about to go to the hospital, do you want me to take you?"  
  
Dwayne turned towards Kurt's house before turning to Jake; unsure what to say. But he might as well; that was where he was going anyway and, to be honest, he didn't feel strong enough to walk the whole way there. Nodding slightly, he got in the car and leaned back against the seat. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Jake smirked at him, Dwayne oblivious, and turned to the road, talking under his breath, "No problem at all." 


	9. Surprise

All usual disclaimers apply.  
  
*-~*  
  
On the way back to the hospital, Dwayne had fallen asleep as he sat. They had stopped by at a store and Jake had gotten something to drink and, after that, he had fallen asleep sitting on the passenger's seat. As he slowly started to wake up once more, he frowned slightly to fight away the drowsiness that seemed to be lingering in his mind. His head was leaning against the window, and it was until now that he started to feel once more the coldness that had always been there but he hadn't noticed before. Opening his eyes slowly, he blinked a couple of times to get rid of the blurriness and looked out the window. Everything that was around them was snow, though. Snow and more trees that didn't seem to end. Frowning, he sat up and turned to Jake, who was still driving as he smoked. "Where are we going?"  
  
Jake turned to him quickly before back at the road. "The hospital, don't you remember?"  
  
"This.isn't the way to the hospital."  
  
"How would you know? You never leave."  
  
At that, Dwayne frowned slightly and turned back to the road. That was true. Besides, maybe they were taking a shortcut.? Dwayne stayed silent, just watching the road and sometimes closing his eyes. His eyes seemed to be closing by themselves, for some reason, and he couldn't help but wonder if all those nights that he had stayed awake were the reason why he was sleepy now. As he started to nod off, the abruptness of the sudden stop made him open his eyes and once more look around but at what he saw he frowned. They had stopped in front of some sort of cabin. A shack, it looked like. "Where exactly are we?"  
  
Jake turned to him and smirked, starting to get out. "Your new hospital. Now come on, get out."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Get.out. Didn't you hear?" When Dwayne got out after some hesitating, Jake got out of the car and followed him inside. The cabin was practically empty; it barely had a couch and raggedy curtains. Inside it was just was cold as outside, but Jake took off his jacket after locking the door. "Make yourself comfortable, 'Mr. Johnson'. It might be a while before my other guest wakes up." With that, Jake left him in the 'living room' before heading over to another room and shut the door behind him.  
  
Still frowning slightly, Dwayne sat down on the couch. Where was he.? It was obvious that it was out in the middle of nowhere, but why was he in that cabin? Why had Jake brought him there? He would have thought that they were there to get something that he had forgotten, but it was obvious that that wasn't it. Sighing, he leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.  
  
"No, leave me alone!"  
  
Dwayne opened his eyes and stayed there without moving. Had he imagined that? It had been some sort of muffled voice, and he didn't know where it came from. Next, there were some thuds heard before a loud smack was heard. It wasn't the sort of smack that someone would hit some sort of object; it was flesh against flesh. And it had been hard, too, because it seemed to echo throughout the lonely cabin and bring it out of its stillness and silence. Dwayne was about to close his eyes once more, not able to fight the drowsiness, but the small sound of sobs were heard again followed by some sort of glass breaking. Frowning, he got up again and tried to follow the sounds as quiet as possible and, when he reached the door where Jake had gone in he knew that it all came from there. But there were only sobs heard now and, still frowning, Dwayne opened the door. At the sight in front of him, Dwayne's eyes widened slightly before he tried to frown. "What the hell are you doing? Why."  
  
Jake was standing, already smoking another cigarette. A woman was on a chair; sitting but tied up so she wouldn't be able to leave. Her hair was messy and covering her face, but it was obvious that she was crying because of the way that her body shook with each sob. "What, Dwayne? Why is she here?" Jake smirked and started walking towards him. "Why, we're just going to have a little reunion here. Just the three of us. And you, my friend, are the main attraction to all this."  
  
Dwayne took a step back, frowning and looking at Jake in disgust. What the hell kind of a man was he? "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Well, you are famous. When your little friend finds you gone, he'll want to find you. And then, because of you, the whole thing that happened here will be on the news. Thanks to you, I'll finally be able to prove what sort of fucked up people operate that freak show of hospital." Jake turned to the woman and smirked. "Especially one that is being led by Dr. Lisa Waltham."  
  
When Jake said that, Dwayne could feel himself drain of color. He recognized his voice. He had been the one that had always talked to him. It hadn't been him imagining it; it had been Jake all along. He wasn't crazy after all; it had all been Jake.  
  
.::.*.::.  
  
"Daddy! Dad, can I go wake up Uncle Dwayne now? I want to open my presents!"  
  
Kurt and Karen had been asleep on their bed; Kurt on his stomach and with his arm around his wife while Karen slept on her side and cuddled close to Kurt. Even with the thermostat, the house felt cold; but the ice on the window explained why. The temperature must have dropped more than what the meteorologist had predicted. As Kyle barged his way in the room, Kurt sighed and moaned as he fought the sleep, "It's already eight, Kyle?"  
  
"Yeah, Dad! You told me that we could open presents at eight, remember?"  
  
Karen, still with her eyes closed, talked, "We barely remember, sweetheart; it was three in the morning when we told you. . ."  
  
Kyle grinned and jumped on the bed to wake them up. "Come on! Let's go open presents now. . .!"  
  
Kurt sighed and started to sit up. "Ok, bud, go get your Uncle Dwayne." As he heard his son's cheers and his running to Dwayne's room, Kurt lay back down on the bed and rested his forehead against Karen's shoulder. "It's still early."  
  
At that, Karen laughed lightly and caressed his arm. "I know, but it's Christmas, Kurt. Every Christmas it happens. Let's just be glad that Dwayne's here and we were able to sleep 'til now; this is actually pretty late for him."  
  
Chuckling, Kurt turned to his wife and kissed her lightly. "You're so smart."  
  
Karen grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. When they pulled back, Karen grinned and whispered to him, "I know. . ."  
  
"Dad! Dad!!"  
  
At Kyle's urgency, both Karen and Kurt got out of bed; their heart beating quickly and praying that what they had talked about last night hadn't happened. Could Dwayne really have hurt himself? Killed himself? When they got to the room and saw that the only person in the room that had been in the room had been Kyle, Kurt frowned. "Where is he?"  
  
The boy, grabbing the note, hurried to him and handed it to him. "He's gone, Dad; he left." 


End file.
